


That Chola from Halloween

by HipericoLotus



Category: On My Block (TV)
Genre: ...are you okay? Why was a story like this even necessary?, Canonical Character Death, POV Outsider, Racist Language, Racist POV, TW: pretty much all of the triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 21:23:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18484630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HipericoLotus/pseuds/HipericoLotus
Summary: He stares at the picture below the paragraph that passes for an article. The girl in her surprisingly un-chintzy quinceanera gown looks ethereal, serene, a slip of a thing caught forever between First Communion and her wedding day.





	That Chola from Halloween

There’s an LA Times blurb about a shooting on his Twitter feed, framed by the words “so the chola bitch from Halloween got shot”

He stares at the two pictures below the paragraph that passes for an article. He vaguely remembers the boy. The girl in her surprisingly un-chintzy quinceanera gown looks ethereal, serene, a slip of a thing caught forever between First Communion and her wedding day. The sensual anger he remembers is gone, replaced by a calm joy. He pictures a bullet hole in white silk, the blood spatter around it, above it, whore-red blooming over her delicate pink lips. 

He remembers fierce narrow eyes and a thumb smoothing away the black on his cheek, the incongruous smell of cologne. Shouldn’t gangbangers smell like BO and weed? Shouldn’t they be wild, psychopathic? The man was coiled grace; dangerous, yes, but something else, too. Something almost noble in the highbrow elegance with which he casually made a crowd of future senators and CEOs piss themselves. 

The black teardrop that didn’t rub away. 

An image appears in the mind’s eye, a real tear on the high bronze cheekbone, jaggedly moving across a face rocked by the kickback from a killshot. The beautiful girl gazes happily from the screen and his vision blurs, slightly, but he ignores it. 

Can’t be late for school.


End file.
